


You're My Christmas Present

by VigilantePond



Category: Doctor Sleep (2019), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King
Genre: Christmas Smut, F/F, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VigilantePond/pseuds/VigilantePond
Summary: Your car breaks down on the way to a Christmas dinner and you stop by an RV campground to find help. Instead, you find Rose the Hat...
Relationships: Rose the Hat/Original Female Character(s), Rose the Hat/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	You're My Christmas Present

‘CROWNVILLE, NEW YORK’, the sign read; you were lost… again. After convincing your mother that you’d make it to Christmas dinner in time this year, you hated to have to admit that she was right. It wasn’t your fault of course, the winding roads all looked identical in the blizzard, with endless blankets of white snow covering the highways. Plus, layers of thick clouds obscured the moon’s glow and you were left with a few flickering lamps on the mountainsides to guide your way. All of a sudden, your car slows down even though your foot is stomping on the accelerator, and a cacophony of rumbles and metallic noises ensues. _No, no, no, fuck… oh my God_. You’d been meaning to take this piece of junk to get a tune up for ages, but life got in the way. You stepped out of the car and circle it, and made sure there was no smoke and visible damage. The chilly wind seemed to pierce through your coat, and of course there was no reception on your cell phone this high up. It was a textbook example of a winter roadside emergency. 

_Okay, y/n,_ you think to yourself. _What can I do? I think I passed by a campground not too far back. I could easily walk there and get help and shelter for the night, right? God you’re so fucking useless_. 

You turn and trudge through the snow back to the campground you remember seeing, where there was a cozy fire and some RVs parked. A small part of you — the part that craved adrenaline and out-of-ordinary encounters — was glad this happened. You didn’t _really_ want to go to the family dinner anyway; you didn’t like your mother’s new boyfriend, your sister still won’t speak to you, your brother-in-law’s family were absolute vultures, and they’d all probably grill you about dropping out of college and ask why you didn’t have a boyfriend yet. 

The snow was beginning to seep through your thin faux-leather boots, your toes started to feel numb. _Almost there… I swear, it was that way_. Finally, you smelled the firewood burning and heard distant voices from the campground. 

“This is so silly, I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” a woman’s voice said. It sounded deep and soothing but vaguely sinister, like honey dripping with tar. 

“It’s Andi’s first Christmas with us, and we’re going to make it easier for her,” a second voice chimed in — a male’s. He sounded patient and calming. 

You snuck closer, and pressed your body against a tree trunk to observe with caution. The woman had a top hat, not the tall ones like you saw in portraits of Abraham Lincoln, but a smaller black hat that fit her head like a crown. Even in the dark you could make out her distinct features - prominent cheekbones and a jawline sharper than stone. The man’s back was facing you, but he was setting up a long picnic table with sliced ham, colourful fruitcakes, and pies. At first glance it looked like a typical Christmas dinner, except… at the centre of the table was a cluster of silver canisters, instead of a turkey. Frowning, you watched as five others gathered around the table, howling and laughing like a pack of giddy hyenas. 

The hat woman bestowed one of the canisters up to the dim moonlight, “This one’s called Timothy. He tastes like roast beef and turkey.” There was that voice again, husky and sweet at the same time. “Merry Christmas. Eat well, _live long_.” 

You watched in terror as she twisted open the canisters one by one with a _click_ , and trails of vapour emerged. The people — if they were even considered people — had their mouths gaping like goldfish, inhaling as much of the smokey substance as they could. Their empty eyes glowed like headlights, and they breathed into each other’s mouths like frat boys did as a cheap vaping party trick. Yet, at the same time, there was something oddly poetic about it. _What the fuck?,_ you thought. It was exactly like how people described witnessing car accidents — it was awful and brutal, but for some reason you couldn’t look away. _This is some messed up cult shit, I should probably get out of here_. Turning on your heel, you bolted a little too quickly, and snapped some twigs on your way out. It caught the attention of the hat woman, who narrowed her shining eyes at you immediately. _Fuck_. 

“You. Stop right there,” she commanded. 

You froze in your tracks, not sure if you were shaking from the cold or sheer terror. You had no choice but to turn around slowly to face the pack of cackling devils. She strut towards you, arrogance trailing her every step. “Well, well, well what do we have here? Another Christmas treat,” she quipped, “Hi there.” The woman grabbed your wrist, and the first thing you noticed was how _warm_ her hand was. 

“H-hi? I’m sorry, my car b-broke down and I was just going around to find help but I’ll leave you guys alone um, Merry Christmas okay I-,” you babbled.

“No, no, _stay_. We don’t want you to spend Christmas all alone, do we?” she said. Her gang chortled in agreement. She gave you a smile, and up close, you could see all her features clearly. This was simply the most beautiful woman you’d ever encountered. Although every sensible part of your mind screamed _Get out of there, dumbass!_ , you just looked into her captivating blue eyes and nodded, as if under a trance. Your fight or flight instinct perished, like it had gone up in the flames. 

“I’m Rose the Hat. What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asked. 

“Y/n,” you replied. 

“Is she steamy?” a man asked. It wasn’t the man from before, this one was older and very tall. 

“No… a rube… but I’m going to have some fun with this one. She’s _my_ Christmas gift,” Rose the Hat smirked. Her arm was linked around yours now and she took your hand; you felt her energy pass onto you. She felt like the cozy furnace from your old living room, where you’d sit with your family in cozy socks and flannel blankets on Christmas Eve… before everything fell apart. You hadn’t felt this kind of warmth in years. You followed her into her trailer, and you were both surprised and impressed at the decor. It looked straight out of those hippie Pinterest boards, with the patterned cushions and funky lamps. The Christmas lights looked out of place, but you could tell she made an effort. She sat you down across from her on the bed, where she folded her legs into a lotus position. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked. Although, a secret part of you thought _I wouldn’t mind if this woman hurt me. She could step on me and I’d thank her._

She scoffed, “No… what use would that do? You haven’t got any steam.” 

“Steam… that’s what you guys were… inhaling,” you said slowly. 

Her face lit up, “Ah, that’s right. You’re a clever one. Such a pretty little thing, too.” 

“Are you a cult?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

She laughed, “No. They’re my family.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “Sounds exactly like what someone in a cult would say.” Didn’t they call the steam Timothy? You were almost positive they killed people, but you weren’t scared though; she got you feeling like a psychopath. Rose radiated heat like a furnace and you wanted her. 

“Whatever you say,” she smiled, and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ears. “Now tell me what you want.” Her voice was the most melodic tune you’d ever heard, and suddenly you found yourself losing control of your own thoughts, like you were drunk. There were so many thoughts fluttering inside your head. _I want a family again… I want to be loved… I want to feel accepted, and wanted… I want…_

“I want you. Now,” was all that managed to escape your lips. 

“I love when rubes beg,” she said. 

You pressed your lips against hers, eager to find out if she tasted as sweet as her voice was. She pushed you down onto your back, and she nudged your legs apart as she climbed on top of you. Her hands caressed all around your body, as she muttered, “Poor darling, so cold… I know other ways of warming up.” 

As you rummaged your hands through her masses of thick brown hair, you knocked her top hat off but she didn’t seem to mind. You removed the rest of her clothing promptly, as she did yours. You were her Christmas present and she was unwrapping you. She latched onto your neck like a vampire without fangs, planting a trail of kisses from your collarbones all the way down to your hips. Her eyes flashed as you cupped your hand over her breast, and you rubbed your thumb gently. “ _Fuck._ Oh, you rubes. If only you knew how good this feels after taking steam,” she panted. 

“Try, then. Give me the closest thing,” you challenged. She reached between your legs, and your bodies moved together, creating a euphoric mix of warmth and pleasure. When she finally brought her head between your thighs, you were already breathless. _Where had this woman been all my life?_ you thought. “Oh fuck, Rose. I’m going to…” You let out an unearthly sound, and she meets with a satisfied beam. You were satisfied, but you craved for more, like wanting extra dessert after a full Christmas meal. “Again… please.”

She flashed a devilish grin, lowered her head, and began again.


End file.
